“None at all,” admitted Betty more cheerfully.  “So I’ll stop worrying right now.  But I would like to know where Ida Bellethorne is in this blizzard.”

“Girl or horse?” chuckled Bobby.

“Girl.  I fancy that little cockney hostler, or whatever he is, will look out carefully for the mare.  But who is there to care anything about poor Ida?”

Gradually even Betty and Bobby were convinced that there were several other matters to worry about that were connected with neither Ida Bellethorne the girl nor Ida Bellethorne the horse.  The belated train finally got to the junction where there was an eating place.  But another train had passed, going south, less than an hour before and the lunch counter had been swept almost bare.

Uncle Dick and Major Pater were old travelers, however; and they were first out of the train and bought up most of the food in sight.  Others of the passengers purchased sandwiches and coffee and tea to consume at once.  Uncle Dick and the military man swept the shelves of canned milk and fruit, prepared cocoa and other similar drinks, as well as all the loaves of bread in sight, a boiled ham complete, and several yards of frankfurters, or, as the Fairfields folks called them, “wienies.”

“We know what Mrs. Eustice and Miss Prettyman would say to such provender,” said Louise when the party, the boys helping, returned with the spoils of the lunch-room.  “How about calories and dietetics, and all that?”

“We may be hungry enough before we see a regular meal in a dining-car or a hotel to forget all about such things,” Uncle Dick said seriously.  “There!  We are starting already.  And we’re pushing straight into a blizzard that looks to me as though it would continue all night.”

“Well, Uncle Dick,” Betty said cheerfully, “we can go to bed and sleep and forget it.  It will be all over by morning of course.”

Uncle Dick made no rejoinder to this.  They had a jolly lunch, getting hot water from the porter for their drink.  Bob and the Tucker twins pretty nearly bought out the candy supply on the train, and the girls felt assured that they were completely safe from starvation as long as the caramels and marshmallows held out.

By nine o’clock, with the train pushing slowly on, the head locomotive aided by a pusher picked up at the junction, the berths were made up and everybody in the Pullman coach had retired.

Betty, as she lay in her upper berth with Libbie, heard the snow, or sleet, swishing against the side and roof of the car, and the sound lulled her to sleep.  She slept like any other healthy girl and knew nothing of the night that passed.  The lights were still burning when she awoke.  Not a gleam of daylight came through the narrow ground-glass window at her head.  And two other things impressed her unfavorably:  The train was standing still and not a sound penetrated to the car from without.

Libbie was sound asleep and Betty crept out of the berth without awakening the plump girl.  She got into her wrapper and slippers and stole along the aisle to the ladies’ room.  Nobody as yet seemed to have come from the berths.